


Jagged Little Pill

by Lafeae



Series: Whump/Hurt/Comfort challenge [3]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Headaches & Migraines, M/M, No Character Death, Overdosing, Prescription Drug Abuse, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 06:31:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17503430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafeae/pseuds/Lafeae
Summary: Migraines can last for up to seventy-two hours. Unfortunately for Kaiba, nothing is helping....not for lack of trying. Just one more pill couldn’t be bad. Joey hadn’t said anything yet.—Puppyshipping, Dark themes.





	Jagged Little Pill

**Author's Note:**

> Requested as part of the whump challenge by our lovely MistressArafax. You make me do terrible things XD 
> 
> Not her fault. I do these things to myself.

It started with a pill over coffee. Kaiba slipped it onto his tongue and rolled it around, almost biting down on the round ends before washing it back. He knew better. Biting it wouldn’t make it work any faster even if he wished it would.

As soon as he took the first pill, he knew that by lunch he’d be taking another pill because the effects had worn off. His migraines were the thing of legends. They throbbed hot and hard behind his eyes, leaving spots in his vision. He often found himself pressing his face in his hands, pushing the tips of his fingers so deep into his eyes that he was convinced, one day, he might blind himself.

It would certainly make the light more bearable.

It wasn’t long before a pair of hands rested on the side of his head, the fingertips gently rubbing in circular, clockwise motions. Kaiba’s hands dropped from his face, and he straightened his back to get a little closer to the warm body behind him. “Mm, morning Joseph,” he hummed.

“Morning, Seto.” Kaiba’s hand ran up the forearm connected to the gentle, soothing hands. “I heard ya get up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Kaiba replied.

“Migraine wake you up again?”

Kaiba nodded, and was rewarded with a wave of nausea that he swallowed down. In reply, Joey applied a little more pressure and slowed his circles.

For the few minutes of the massage, Kaiba was in bliss. If there was any magic in the world, it was Joey’s hands, gentle and kind to his suffering. A surprise, given his beat up knuckles and calloused palms, but over the course of their relationship, Joey had surprised him plenty of times.

“You going to work today?” Joey asked.

“Yes.”

“What about the party tonight?”

Kaiba hummed, having almost forgotten about the ridiculous gala. He hated forced social events; they were nothing but gossip and pointless networking. On any regular day, he had a headache by the end of it. Going there with a migraine was going to take every ounce of will he had. Will, and the pill bottle sitting on the kitchen table.

“We’re still going.”

Joey groaned, and his hands wavered for a few seconds. Enough that the migraine crept back in, albeit dulled. “These things are so stupid...you got a migraine. We got an excuse t’ stay home an’ veg on the couch. C’mon.”

Kaiba grimaced as Joey walked around the table. Even the sound of his bare feet slapping on the tile was grating.

“As much as I’d love to, we have to attend this one,” Kaiba said. It was an event of the season sort of gala; anyone who was anyone would be there, and it would look poorly on him to not make an appearance. Even if it was just for an hour. “We’ll be quick.”

“If you say so.”

He took another pill, just in case.

—

On the car ride to the gala, he’d taken his fifth pill. The third had been at lunch, the fourth on his way home from work. He was sleepless, shaky. It could have been the caffeine, too, because he knew it sometimes helped. Not today. All he knew was the he needed to avoid alcohol and drink seltzer for the short period time he spent making small talk with vaguely familiar faces.

The party was exceptionally bright and loud. Like everyone wanted him to suffer as much as possible. Most of the ballroom was decorated in bright shades of white and gold. A large and ostentatious chandelier was the centrepiece, making everything, including wine glasses, silverware, and the copious amounts of jewellery the women wore, sparkle and shine.

He kept looking to the floor or ducking into a space by the grand staircase. It was the furthest away from the whiny string quartet and muffled the voices being echoed off the vaulted ceilings. He could draw people into short conversations, walk them along the edges of the ballroom where the light was lowest, before he returned back to the corner.

He’d lost Joey in the mess. Usually he kept the blond at his side to be sure he wasn’t making any social missteps, but today, in spite of the caffeine, he didn’t have the energy. His reputation could survive Joey’s mischief—assuming he survived.

It was more than the hour that he wanted it to be. He spent too much time either making idle conversation or looking for Joey that he lost track of time, and found that it had been closer to two and half hours, maybe three. He had likely lost time because of the champagne he promised himself not to drink, but it made swallowing two more pills easier and, in turn, it made his migraine lessen. Almost like Joey’s magic hands. Close, but not quite.

The brightness of the lights had begun to dim. He thought nothing of the darkness at the edge of his vision, believing he had finally found relief after eight or nine pills, but it could have been for other reasons. He was too tired, too listless, too anguished to even care that he probably had just made a very risky cocktail of substances. Uppers, downers, and whatever else was in the prescription that he knew was stronger than any over-the-counter paracetamol.

Kaiba’s mind was hazy. The room, and all it’s dazzling colours, spun as he took a step forward. He had to find Joey and get out. They could go home and get some sleep. Finally, after three days, he could get some sleep and...

Glass shattered at his feet. He looked down at the remnants of the champagne flute, the tip of his shoe toeing through the million little twirling shards and the frothy, golden bubbles.

“Oh my God, Mr. Kaiba, I’m so sorry,” a high-pitched woman said. She hung at the side of his vision, a literal blob of colours. Paint on an artist’s palette.

He was so dizzy that he was fighting not to stagger backwards, even as the champagne soaked the soles of his shoes. The woman carefully dabbed at the lapel of his suit, blotted in shades of red.

Kaiba recalled himself asking, “What are you doing...?” and fighting not to slur his words together. The whiny string quartet, the raucous voices and laughter, everything fell to a very tunnelled din in his ears. Almost like cars passing by in the distance.

Cold. His fingers were cold and numb. Was that why he dropped the glass? Or was it because he couldn’t manage a breath any further than three or four ribs down. It stuck to his sternum, weak and phlegmy, and when he looked up, there were two glittering, amber stars.

—

“Jesus Christ! Move. Fuckin’ move!” Joey shoved by all the curious shoulders that were packed tightly around the main staircase. “Seto! Seto what’s a’matter? Seto?”

Kaiba’s name was hissed on everyone’s tongues, passing through the crowd like wildfire. He could hear them all gossiping, making assumptions based on what they saw. Snakes, every one of them, Joey thought as he breached through.

Joey froze.

His lover was laid out, nearly spread-eagle, with his head lulled to the side. His eyes were open, but only just. There was very little life in them, and it may have only been the life that Roland was pumping into him, violently performing chest compressions.

Joey dropped to the man’s side and leaned far over Kaiba, looking for signs of life. There was no colour on Kaiba’s face or down his neck. His lips were twinged a deep blue, almost purple, as if someone had socked him in the mouth.

If only, Joey thought. There wasn’t any blood, just lumps of bile crusted around his mouth. 

“Seto! Seto, wake up...tell me w-what happened? Huh, who poisoned ya? Tell me what’s goin’ on, please. Please, ya stupid bastard. P-puh-please,” Joey begged, holding back his sobs and stifling the snot that ran down his upper lip. “Please...please, wake up. Please.”

Joey fell to his knees by Kaiba’s head, pulling it up into his lap. Roland tried to admonish him, but Joey didn’t listen. He carded his fingers through Kaiba’s hair before reaching down and performing mouth-to-mouth, however lopsided it was.

“C’mon,” he whispered to the chill lips. “Talk. Tell me something, please...”

Small, weak breaths puffed against his lips. “....pup...”

Joey nodded and brushed tears away. He could hear EMTs hollering for people to get out of the way. “You’re okay. I promise, you’re gonna be okay.”

“...your...hands...”

“Who did this?” Joey asked.

It was easier to believe that someone had poisoned Kaiba. People had done plenty of awful things to him and Mokuba; this almost wasn’t out of the ordinary, even if it was so very public. But deep down, Joey knew. He’d watched Kaiba down two pills for the migraine before he left for work. Just like he’d watch Kaiba dwindle down the month’s supply over the last few days, silently begging for relief from a burden that the blond wished he could share.

Carefully, he pressed his fingers to Kaiba’s temples and began to rub. “L-like this?” He hiccuped.

“...yeah...”

“You’re gonna be okay.”

A half-hearted smirk appeared. Joey wanted to believe that it was poison still. Just like he wanted to believe his Old Man really needed the booze to stop nerve pain from an old work injury.

“I’m take care of ya. I’m good at takin’ care of people...,” Joey assured, pressing his fingers down and rubbing harder circles. “I’ll make the migraine go away. We’ll...we’ll find out who hurt ya. Promise. J-just...just keep breathin’.”

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I said dark themes....I surprised myself with this one. Tell me what you think.
> 
> Want to request a whump short? Hit me up on tumblr @lafeae. I got a whole board of terrible things.


End file.
